Long Attempt Poems
Long Attempt Poems. Below are the most popular long Attempt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attempt poems by poem length and keyword.
when we really think about it
in our mind is words so plentiful
can't put a number upon them
they're more value than any jewel
These words so full of description
some so simple others filled with drama
they are at our very fingertips
to be written even if we stammer
This indeed my very inspiration
to know what's written may speak
with a power not of myself
for in me is just too weak
The power is in the words
mingled together in poetic rhyme
to move it's readers emotionally
stirring one's heart time after time
So it's such a real pleasure
having such time and space
to put such words together
hoping others will find them ace
(the power of words and its effect upon those of us who attempt to write poetry)
The city is dotted in little wooded sanctuaries. One on the corner of Forsyth and Luckie, a pair of twins on Hill St. If you’re lucky sometimes you can glimpse a group of four or more. I know of one but that’s a well kept secret, you’ll have to find it on your own.
I’m not entirely sure who planted these little arbor islands. I would imagine the people who paved gray runways and built buildings of burnt brick and spotted marble placed a few in a moment of guilt, built up stone by stone until the weight became too heavy to bear. So they brought a few strong trees back into the concrete mire.
You have to admire their wooden resolution though, they persevere in their 4x4 plots of land filled with intractable mulch, dry, hard dirt and a layer of plastic and styrofoam topsoil. Their branches scrape the second story windows, their emaciated fingers attempt to push through grout and stone. They reach with eager, upturned palms for open air.
I was admiring the white, spring blooms today when men came with silver spears and saw-tooth blades to trim the branches on DeKalb. The tree’s wooden fingers severed at the joints, veins bleeding sap onto the once clean blades. As the final limb fell, time cut back 6 months, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Sorry Ciro Gargano Boss of
corruption your latest scare
tactics representing queen pin
gangster disciples leaders
is it Man Die wisconsin
woman's prison blood was
everywhere after she stabbed
five persons again man die
female gangster disciples
leaders Ciro Gargano and
my abusive ex husband two
arson murders sharing the
same female violent offenders
looking for early release from
prison by intimidating threatening
fbi confidential human sources
your latest threat ciro low for
even you M17 mounted let's be
honest here are you planning
another assassination attempt
on my life because of arson
murder of 9 your murders yours
and my ex emco chemicals employee
I GOT YOUR INTIMADATION
TERRORISTS THREATS M17 BUSHMASTER
GOOD CHOICE FOR ASSASSINATING ME
SINCE THE LAST ATTEMPT 9mm IN
TAMPA FAILED UNAFRAID OF YOUR
QUEEN PIN VIOLENT OFFENDERS
LEADERS IN WISCONSIN WOMAN’S
PRISON SENDING THREATS
CIRO GARGANO ARSON MURDERERS
OF 9 MY PRAYERS ARE WITH THESE
EVIL HITMEN HIRED TO THREATENED
ME OVER MY AMERICAN
POETRY OVER MY WEARING WIRES
PREGNANT BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS
FOR THE FBI FROM JUNK SICK COPS SADLY
CIRO GARGANO BELIEVE MY WEARING WIRES
PREGNANT BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS
FOR THE FBI WOULD ACTUALLY
CONTINUE GETTING HIS PRISON TIME
CUT HENCE ALLOWING HUNDREDS OF
SEVERE VIOLENT OFFENDERS EARLY
RELEASE SHAME ON YOU
GOD BLESS AMERICA
Before the dawn whirling in a grim dream,
conception of a haunting howling scream,
through slivered moon's eclipse casting a gloom.
Beasts wandering eyes of red are agleam
shadows amble beyond a massive tomb.
A wraith in gossamer veils of blackness
walks a dark and dismal path of badness
stretching its tendrils over the ghost house
threshold of cold disembodied madness.
Piteous cries of pain attempt to rouse
the passion within the wraith coal shadow.
Peering piercing the night like an arrow,
lips curling back over its bloodstained fangs.
Encroaching blackness savoring sorrow
as demon's fade away as despair hangs
9/26/2017
Rolling my trembling tray down the colorless, hospital hall
I groan in a state of weariness, with a night shift shuffle, as I
attempt to bring an offering of pills and syringes to suffering souls.
Under the blinding, artificial light, amidst pungent smells
and antiseptic dreams, I see an elderly gentlemen struggling
swaying, as he tries to push his shaky IV pole down the hall.
I come and carefully guide him into his uncomfortable bed
then gently administer a token of respite from his restless pain.
His frail frame relaxes as his tired eyes offer a whisper of thanks.
And in a moment, the balm of human touch and kindness
carries away all ills, while silent prayers are answered.
Written on 5/2/2017
The people have spoken
They flexed their muscle
As change was demanded
Rattling the diplomatic cage
Forever shattering the mold
Politics will never be the same
Neither will fake news -
Fighting a wave of negativity
Bitter tongues wagging
Taking the easy way out
Sitting scornful on the sidelines
Criticizing screaming and whining
Not lifting a finger in an attempt
To make this world a better place
Just meddling and brewing strife
Tinting all with anger and bickering
Instead of trying to unite and
Leave all differences behind
Be positive and constructive
Stand in harmony in support of those
Trying to make America strong again
If you're not part of the solution
You're part of the problem
Stand up and show your patriotic colors
While there is still hope
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on February 5, 2019 for A POSITIVE PRESIDENT TRUMP POETRY CONTEST sponsored by ANTHONY SLAUSIN - RANKED 4TH (shortly after his 1st election)
Breathing in God’s word;
filling my lungs with his grace.
I let fly out of sight
the things keeping me up
at night.
I harness my husband’s hand -
it is in plain reach.
His knuckles are ruddy,
veined with integrity.
I feel safe in his grasp,
even as he dreams.
Moreso, my Lord’s palm,
does love and protect;
The strong hold of God’s hand
surrounds me like a shield.
My breath is eventone;
I am relaxed.
Not so those who lie
to their partners, who drink
and sleep all day.
The sun gets gritty
behind their lids;
their eyes itch.
The twitching of the tales
they must spin, attempt
to remember then hit
those who won’t surrender
to the tall tales and white lies
they utter.
Under a soft blanket
with my ever after;
happily we joy
and suffer
for we know
we are planted in heaven;
its waters aplenty, its fruits
of harmony and rest,
its communion with the living
not the dead.
when you lie down,
you will not be afraid;
when you lie down,
your sleep will be sweet.*
8/30/2021
*Proverbs 3:24 NIV
Most of the following
words (fictitious) quit
tuss cent shill, knit
head, (non adult tryst) pit
tee full (sorry excuse
for originality), rit
dunk yule huss, feebly
abominable attempt at unit
tarry yen rhyme for excellence,
benignly, essentially,
and honestly wit
less, worthless reading mitt
tear real - dashed off
(by this hare reed rabbit),
wall henna burst of
(playful tulles toy) warren peace,
aye practically spit
out (from inxs of carrot juice),
now dost daringly be hove
brave reeder to comprehend
this dime metrical kickstarter fit -
bawling contrived nada very tit
till late ting, nor
not so great English lit,
and moost unlikely tuff hind
posthumous fame,
worm ma obit
chew wary verb boss
lee probably re:nouns,
(this once upon
a time pablum child),
nor e'en garner this hare reed
ole Jack a one hit
wonder poetic laureate,
nonetheless this
(o' whar did me bunny go),
perhaps to Brit
tin endeavoring merely
to join United Kingdom
(and merrily) writ
for the underground
to test skill at
heart felt fabrication like me,
thus exempting bing
considered, judged,
and labeled tubby unfit.
Now let yours truly whoop
focus to address main intent,
(sans for quick
pick me up)
and nary drop of coffee,
nope not even one molecule
to fill thimbleful sized cup
I reach for bottle of Guarana,
(one serving of
coffee per capsule)
fo' this aging pup,
who attests that caffeine
(liquid and/or
encapsulated), the sole vice
(except for barbiturates, cocaine,
"FAKE" opioid, et cetera),
which overdose nearly found me
nearly a grateful dead – thrice
occasions, where
circumstances of Mus
self (Stuart Little reincarnate -
with an insatiable
craving for cheese
laced with Guarana,
Paullinia cupana,
a climbing plant
in the maple family),
which bean sized seeds
affordable at an acceptable price
many times larger
than puffed rice.
Who are you? She? or He?
Unknowable but known, as a belief per se
Emerging out of fear, death, destruction, loss
Agony, pain, suffering, surprise, puzzle,
mirage, miracle and many more
Hope of the last resort
The ocean, sky, stars, dawn, dusk,
autumn, spring, bloom and breeze
and all the rest is attributed to you
Beyond evidence, reason, logic
Purpose, perceptibility and probe
A phenomenon, beyond comprehension.
You are a human invention
Deeply dwelling in the minds, inseparable
And clinging like breath and beat
Till the last moment
As illusion to explain the unexplainable
Rooted in limitations of time and space.
You exist in imagination,
Coming out as stories, episodes, discourses,
preachings, sermons, worships, convictions
reflecting an attempt for perpetual publicity
popularized from the times immemorial
Much before the discovery of fire
Tyranny, injustice, cruelty, tears, cries,
Hunger, misery, are the order of the day.
Where are you? If at all you exist
It seems your invention is a cruel joke
With complete spiritual indoctrination
Breeding flawed faith, trust and belief
From within the perspex booth, he flirtily inquired
if my day so far had been fulfilling
Duty of filling two reusable bags with thirty items
Didn't stop my silly line from spilling
"Certainly, yes - it's fulfilling me now"
His stare seemed unphased by my lame admission
Scanned groceries somewhere invisible
Face much closer than distance restrictions allow
French throat honey diverted from usual
Behind glasses, bulged eyes listening
Attempt at saving my remark from ruin, I extended
Adept words of general philosophy
on work life balance, my hope his shift soon ended
Frenchy said, "So soon I'm finishing"
Paid, sashayed away, loaded my car
Out of hours nerd backlit by afternoon's fading filter
Sauntered, long limbs fish fine flowed
to his boxy hatchback, began to fold himself into her
Glimsed me, his drive to leave slowed
Look longer than checkout intended
Don't play movies, - be the movie! I frantically chant
My devious quickly runs reels of torrid takes
Grinning, " Thought you'd be put off by my little rant"
Croissant crumbs flew frenzied as he makes
Front seat space clean to enable our chat
Knocked my head on circular pink hand grip swung
His French consoling rubbed clumsily
upon my hair, explained rubber grip used by his Mum
Tried to tuck it away, cute care fumbling
My impatient imagination carried us far
Decal sticker on window, white lettering ' Luck Left'
I inquire puzzled as to its meaning
"Today Luck came," he says, " It's going to be perfect"
Honestly, hormones by then teeming
Carpark departed in five seconds flat
(smutty Sundee)
23rd August 2020